


Something Old and Something New

by Allthemfanfics



Series: 00Q [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Bond is a prick, Fluff, M/M, Other, Pre-Relationship, Q kind of likes it though, Snarky Q, Tension, a bit of sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23369983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allthemfanfics/pseuds/Allthemfanfics
Summary: [The shave scene from Skyfall, but with Q instead of Moneypenny]Bond pulled the door open, his gun pointed at whoever his surprise visitor was."007. Do lower the gun, if you wouldn't mind.""Q."
Relationships: 00Q, James Bond/Q
Series: 00Q [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680862
Comments: 2
Kudos: 161





	Something Old and Something New

Macau, James thought, was quite nice. If his presence there were under different circumstances, perhaps he would have been able to enjoy it more. Not that he wasn't enjoying himself, no, James was actually quite relaxed at the moment. He was getting ready to give himself a shave, the old fashioned way, with a straight razor and everything. Some things, he thought, were best kept untouched by time. James was just about to lather his face in the shaving cream when he heard a sharp knock at his door. 

James paused what he was doing, setting his shaving materials down on the porcelain sink surface before turning to glance at the door. He wasn't expecting company. With his grip secure around his handgun, James inched toward the door, his instincts having taken over. There was another knock, this time the beats were closer together, faster, impatient. Bond pulled the door open, his gun pointed at whoever his surprise visitor was. 

"007. Do lower the gun, if you wouldn't mind."

"Q." James put down the gun and stared at the Quartermaster, the slight buzz of irritation ringing in his ears. "What are you doing here?" 

"I've got some new information for you, 007." Q, ever so polite, pushed his way past James and into the room, his messenger bag falling from his shoulder to the floor with a gentleness James wasn't sure he could manage even if he tried. James watched as Q moved further into the room and rolled his eyes slightly as he closed the door behind him. 

"Aren't you a little overqualified to be delivering messages?" He asked. 

"Normally, I would have done it digitally, you know, sent a text, or called.But my superiors seem to think that digital could be a bit compromising. Absolutely absurd that they think any of my technology would be anything but useful."

James hummed. "How was the flight, then?" 

"Terrible, I hate flying." Q shuddered a bit, thinking of the flight over. He had all but begged Mallory to send someone else in his place, but he was having none of it. Something about England's future hanging in the balance. Q hadn't heard much of what Mallory had said after he told him Q was going to be getting on a plane. 

James snorted as he walked back over to the vanity, setting his gun down, trading it for the shaving cream and brush. "Of course you do." He glanced at the Quartermaster's reflection, an indication for him that he was, in fact, listening. 

If Q heard James's little quip, he didn't say anything about it. "So whoever stole the list has already decrypted it," He said. "They posted the first five names on the web."

"Well, it was only a matter of time," James replied as he ran the shaving brush across his face and coating his face with the cream. 

"That's just the start. They'll be posting five more every week until either we stop them or they get what they want," Q replied as he came to stand in the archway between the foyer and the bathroom. "I would much prefer the former to the latter, as I'm sure you would agree." 

James paused for a moment and glanced up at Q's reflection. The Quartermaster was probably the youngest MI6 had ever seen before. James could tell that much from their first encounter. And although James wasn't sure how much he cared to place his life in the hands of someone as young as he was, he wouldn't be the Quartermaster if M didn't think he was capable. But he was, so she must have thought it. And James trusted M, therefore, to some extent, he trusted Q. "Well, we can't have that, now can we?" He finally responded.

He grabbed the razor and unfolded it, revealing the blade within. Q hummed thoughtfully as he folded his arms across his chest. "Cut-throat razor, how very traditional. Why am I not surprised?" 

"Well, I like to do some things the old fashioned way," James replied with a small smirk before returning his gaze to himself in the mirror. He lifted the blade up to his face and was about to take the first stroke when he felt a foreign hand on his wrist. "Some things are best left to experience." He gave Q a knowing look, to which the Quartermaster ignored.

"Yes, well, your insistence on doing things 'the old fashioned way' is going to cut your face up even more than it already is." Q raised an eyebrow at him. 

James turned on his heels and faced Q, a small smirk danced on his lips. He held the blade out for Q to take from him and tilted his head slightly. "Show me how to do it properly, then." He suggested. 

Q blushed slightly as he glanced at the blade. He gingerly took it from James, their fingers brushing only momentarily. "I suppose, for the sake of England, if I must," The Quartermaster finally sighed. "Come on, then." He and James crossed into the living area, where James pulled up a chair to sit in. He and Q were about the same height, so while James was in the chair, Q was much too high up. With a small, exasperated sigh, Q knelt down between Bond's knees. 

James smirked slightly, noticing how delicate Q's fingers felt against his rough skin as Q pushed his chin to the side. "You know," James said as Q began to gently scrape the blade across the side of his face. "M's already briefed me on the list... which raises the tantalizing question of what you're really doing here, Quartermaster." 

Q didn't reply immediately, as his focus seemed to be mostly on the gentle strokes of the razor blade across James's skin. James stole a glance at the Quartermaster, the amber glow of the candles burning in the room bounced off his dark curls in a completely mesmerizing way. Q was young, he was _new_ , he was very much not what James had been expecting when they first met. But there was something about him that James couldn't quite place... a feeling, perhaps. James wondered if Q felt it, too. 

"My official directive was to help in any way I can," Q replied, his focus never wavering from the task at hand. 

James smirked, his eyes flicking to meet Q's. "So, Mallory put you up to this, did he?" 

"I don't answer to Mallory," said Q as he pulled the blade over James's skin once more. "But yes. He's not as bad as you think." 

"He's a bureaucrat." 

It was Q's turn to smirk. "Honestly, 007, I thought you would be a bit more thorough than that. Gareth Mallory was a Lieutenant Colonel-"

"In Northern Ireland, Hereford Regiment. Spent three months at the hands of the IRA." 

"So, there's more to him than meets the eye." Q nodded. 

"I'm starting to think so, yes." James and Q locked eyes for a brief, beautiful moment as Q's careful, gentle strokes hesitated ever so slightly. It was clear to both of them that James wasn't just talking about Mallory anymore. 

James really wasn't sure what came over him in that brief moment, but he found his eyes flicking down to the top button on Q's cardigan. Q quickly put a stop to any ideas that the double-oh might have had or been having, as he brought a finger up to James's chin and forced his gaze back up. "Keep still, wouldn't want to slice your throat open, now would we?" He asked, pushing James's head up and his gaze all the way to the ceiling. 

Q placed the blade against James's throat and scraped in an upward motion, all the way to James's chin before pulling the blade back. "There. Done," Q declared, setting the blade off to the side. "Honestly, you're a grown man, you should be able to do these things for yourself."

James raised an eyebrow. "I thought your official directive was to help 'in any way you can'?" He asked innocently. 

"Yes, but I don't think that applies to basic hygienic skills, 007." Q got up from his spot on the ground as James wiped the remaining shaving cream from his face and got to his feet as well. "If you won't be needing anything else, I think I'm going to retire to my room for the night."

"What, you're not flying back tonight?" James asked. "I didn't think you'd want to be out in the field any longer than you had to be."

"I don't." Q agreed. "But I flew twenty three hours on a bloody plane to get here and share information with you that you apparently already knew, so I think I'll wait until tomorrow night at least before putting myself through another hellish flight." 

James grinned. "Well, there is actually one thing that you could help me with before you head back," He admitted. 

"And what might that be?" 

"Find a suit and meet me at the Golden Dragon Casino in half an hour," James replied simply. 

Q stared at him for a moment before taking a breath. "You do realize that I'm not a field agent, don't you?"

"It wouldn't take a genius to tell."

"No, just an arrogant double-oh who refuses to accept the fact that he's living in the twenty first century, and not the Dark Ages." Q grabbed his messenger bag from the floor where he left it earlier and pulled the door open. "Goodnight, 007."

"Goodnight, Q."

As the door swung shut and the Quartermaster disappeared behind it, James couldn't help but grin slightly. He turned his head to the side and noticed the straight cut razor, bending over to pick it up and gently ran his thumb across the handle. Yes, he preferred things the old fashioned way a lot of the time... but he was beginning to think that new wasn't so bad either. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing 00q! I hope you guys liked it!!


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